


Always

by butterflybaby91



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fighting, M/M, Smut, Starts off sad gets better i promise, but it is, make up kisses, reassurances of importance, vaguely smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflybaby91/pseuds/butterflybaby91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire had a terrible fight; making up ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt on tumblr (justabitofenj.tumblr.com) and I am really NOT good at all at writing smut so sorry if this sucks.

“Maybe you should just get out,” Enjolras said coolly, staring down at Grantaire as their fight wound up in the worst way possible. No one was even really sure what had sparked it, but all of a sudden, Enjolras and Grantaire had been going at each other right in the middle of a meeting. Usually Grantaire would nag Enjolras, who would get slightly flustered, but be able to move on. 

This time however, was quite different. There had been definite screaming and both men now stood glaring at each other, faces red, chests heaving with adrenaline, almost too angry to even speak anymore. Their friends cowered in the corners of the room, praying for it to be over and for there to be no casualties, but that did not seem to be the case.

“Fine,” Grantaire muttered, “You won’t see me lurking around here again, mucking up your group,” and with that he whirled out of the room, rather gracefully for someone who had had close to six beers that night.

As his thundering steps faded into the distant, Combeferre moved toward Enjolras, and placed a calming hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, while everyone else started to go back to what they had been doing to try and pretend they were no longer listening.

At Combeferre’s touch, Enjolras’ angry façade collapsed and he sank down into his chair, exhausted, “No,” he whispered so only Combeferre could hear, “That was really bad right?” he asked his friend. The only response he got was a grim smile, “I can’t remember the last time we fought that bad,” he added almost inaudibly, lost in contemplation.

“Not sure you have since you guys got together,” Combeferre informed him, which only caused Enjolras to wince. Enjolras and Grantaire used to fight more like this prior to a year ago, but those fights had ended when, one day, mid rant, Enjolras had just grabbed Grantaire right in the middle of a meeting and kissed him fiercely. Their other friends had quickly filed out and away when it became clear the two men were not going to break their embrace anytime soon. They had been together ever since and their fights had subsided into the gentle bickerings of two people who did not generally see eye to eye, but loved each other anyway. Never once had Enjolras kicked Grantaire out.

“Maybe I should go after him?” Enjolras pondered, half standing, looking toward the door.

Combeferre restrained him with a light squeeze to the shoulder on which his hand still rested, “Are you sure? You don’t want to just reignite that argument,” he told Enjolras.

Enjolras shook his head, “No, no it was stupid—I can’t even remember what started it now,” he sighed, “I can’t believe I kicked him out—I have to go,” he said, more forcefully this time and before Combeferre could answer, he was out the door and heading to the street.

Once outside he headed quickly in the direction he thought Grantaire would have gone, toward his apartment, praying that the man had not made it far, slowed as he would have been by his inebriated state. Unfortunately, Enjolras did not manage to overcome Grantaire, but once he reached his apartment, he heard movements inside before he even knocked on the door.

The movements stopped in response to Enjolras’ three short raps, before Grantaire took the few steps toward the door and cracked it open, “What do you want?” he mumbled, not meeting Enjolras’ eye nor inviting him in.

Enjolras sighed, “I’m sorry Grantaire, can I come in?” At the apology, Grantaire looked up, startled and took a step backwards—just enough that Enjolras was able to squeeze by and into the living room. He felt Grantaire stiffen as he brushed past his boyfriend and that sent Enjolras’ stomach churning at the thought of the damage he had inflicted.

Grantaire just stood looking at Enjolras, with the door still ajar until Enjolras reached out and gently closed the door, before crowding into Grantaire’s space, “Grantaire,” he murmured as he stroked the man’s cheek, “I’m so sorry,” Grantaire squeezed his eyes shut, still barely acknowledging him, but Enjolras was encouraged when Grantaire leaned into his touch, “I should never had yelled—should definitely never had kicked you out. I want you there—I want you everywhere—all the time. Please forgive me,” he whispered, not above the idea of begging for the brunette’s forgiveness, as he had still not opened his eyes. A moment passed. Enjolras felt his heart thudding in his chest and he was pretty sure he had never been so nervous in an encounter with Grantaire. His mind started whirling at the possibility that this was it—what if Enjolras had just ruined everything and Grantaire never forgave him and kept his word and never came back to the café—what if he kicked Enjolras out right now and Enjolras never saw him again. He had been very cruel to Grantaire. Enjolras could barely recall half of what he had said in the fight, blinded and deafened as he had been by rage—but he knew that it had not been nice.

Luckily, his thoughts were interrupted by Grantaire’s hand snaking up to grasp his hip, “I’m sorry too,” Grantaire whispered, finally, thankfully, opening his eyes to stare at Enjolras. Enjolras could see the unshed tears welling in them and that caused a painful tug in his heart, but he allowed himself a deep breath of relief, before he smiled gently at Grantaire.

“I’m not even sure anymore what that fight was about—but I never should have kicked you out—I’m in the wrong there Grantaire—not you,” Enjolras assured him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, relishing the way Grantaire’s stance softened when his lips met the other man’s skin.

Grantaire just shrugged, “It wasn’t like I was being easy to have around—I understand—you guys would probably be better off if I didn’t hang around anyway.”

Enjolras pulled back to look at Grantaire, horrified, “What?” he croaked, “No…never…you’re just as important…if not more…than everyone else there. Don’t say such ridiculous things.”

Grantaire laughed bitterly, “Just because you personally want me around does not me that I in fact add anything to the group. Pretty sure I just interrupt and derail everyone constantly.”

“But you do—add to the group that is,” Enjolras assured him, stepping forward to try and close the uncomfortable distance that had surged between them at Grantaire’s depreciation of himself. He grabbed Grantaire’s hands in one of his own and stared into his sky blue eyes, currently reddened by drink and weighted down by self loathing, “Yes of course I want you around, but it’s more than that—you’re the only one who stands up to me,” Enjolras told him, “Every group needs a devil’s advocate and you’re only too happy to play that role as thankless as it may be,” Grantaire shrugged as if he did not really agree, so Enjolras continued, “You pick apart our ideas and that helps us build them up stronger and stronger in the face of your arguments—without you, many times we would just go with whatever my first idea was and that would be—disastrous. It’s so very important—you’re presence—I’ve always thought so, even before we started dating,” Enjolras informed him.

Grantaire looked at him incredulously, “You think that?” he asked slowly, as if he was trying to process this new view of his place in the group.

“Absolutely,” Enjolras asserted, leaning forward to kiss Grantaire firmly on the mouth. He was very pleased when Grantaire responded immediately, hands flying up to grasp Enjolras’ blond curls and leaning toward him, closing the distance between them. Enjolras maneuvered them so that he had Grantaire pressed up against the door. Once they broke apart, both gasping for air, Enjolras moved to kiss down Grantaire’s jaw and the column of his throat to his collarbone. He nipped at Grantaire’s collarbone, winning a deep moan, as Enjolras grinned against the pale skin under his lips. “Do you believe me?” he murmured into Grantaire’s shoulder, dragging aside his green shirt and to begin sucking at the point where Grantaire’s neck met his shoulder.

He felt said shoulder shrug and he stopped to examine Grantaire’s face. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, pupils wide, and he was grinning as he replied teasingly, “Maybe, but I might need you to convince me a little bit more that  _you_  want me around.”

Enjolras sighed, but smiled at the smirking brunette before him, “I’m serious Grantaire,” he told him, as he reached down to lift the hem of his t-shirt up and over his head, “You’re a valuable asset to our group,” he informed him, running his hands over the solid planes of Grantaire’s muscular chest. He leaned down to whisper in Grantaire’s ear, “Without you around criticizing us, we probably all would have been arrested or killed a long time ago,” he finished as he began sucking on Grantaire’s ear lobe.

Grantaire moaned and rested more of his weight back on the door, yielding to Enjolras’ advances. Enjolras pressed his body more tightly to Grantaire’s and rolled his hips forward into the other man’s, eliciting groans from both of them. As Enjolras’ scooted down and began leaving, searing, open mouth kisses on Grantaire’s chest the man quipped in a breathless voice that was probably more desperate and less playful than he wanted it to be, “Is that so? I’ve…I’ve saved your lives with my impertinence?”

“Definitely,” Enjolras assured, as he pulled Grantaire’s jeans to the side to suck a bright red mark onto his hip bone.

Grantaire hummed pleasantly and brought his hands up to rest in Enjolras’ hair, “Still not convinced,” he said in a rush, as Enjolras moved to undo his belt.

Enjolras slipped a finger beneath Grantaire’s pants and boxers, teasingly brushing the soft skin of his abdomen, still lightly trailing kisses on his lower stomach, “What would convince you?” he asked, slipping his hand over to rest on the button of Grantaire’s jeans.

Grantaire shuddered as Enjolras undid the button and slowly pulled his zipper down, “I think,” he began and then gulped when Enjolras pushed both his jeans and boxers to his knees in one swift motion, quickly moving in to pepper his hips and upper thighs with kisses, his hands solidly resting on Grantaire’s hips, “I think that you,” he tried again, “should back up your claim,” he paused and moaned loudly, when Enjolras’ mouth encompassed him, but after a minute,  Enjolras pulled back to watch Grantaire and he was able to continue speaking, “with examples,” he finally managed to choke out.

“Fair enough,” Enjolras smiled up at him, but then he stood and Grantaire groaned in frustration, “I think we should move this to your room if you’re going to make me write you a verbal essay—this could take a while,” Enjolras suggested, as he ripped off his own shirt and threw it to the ground to join Grantaire’s. Grantaire just nodded at him, pushing off his pants and shoes and then proceeding to quickly remove Enjolras’.

Once they both stood, naked, in the hallway, Enjolras held out a hand to Grantaire, “Come on—I’ll back up my claims with evidence in the bedroom.”

However, Grantaire shook his head and, instead, pushed Enjolras’ up against the wall and began kissing him furiously, “That’s okay,” he whispered between kisses, “you don’t have to,” another kiss, “write me,” yet another kiss and Grantaire’s hands began sliding down Enjolras’ sides to grip his hips as he pressed harder into the blond man as Grantaire slowly began to rut against him, “an essay,” he finally added biting down hard, on the muscle in Enjolras’ shoulder causing Enjolras to moan and buck his hips into Grantaire’s.

Neither spoke again, until they both lay spent, sticky, sweaty, and dozing, on the floor of the hallway, not having bothered to move, after they had collapsed there. Grantaire lay curled in Enjolras’ arms, his head pillowed on Enjolras’ chest as the blonde’s finger’s gently carded through his dark curls. Enjolras pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s head, “You know I was serious right?” he asked quietly, “You are a vital asset to our group and if you want I will seriously provide examples of why I know that to be true.”

Grantaire laughed and Enjolras felt the vibrations course through his body as the dark haired man pulled him closer, “Nah, it’s fine,” he told Enjolras, “I kinda see where you’re coming from and anyways,” he looked up to meet Enjolras’ eye and Enjolras was happy to see only mirth and love shining back at him from the blue orbs this time, “As long as you want me there—I’ll be there,” Grantaire confessed.

Enjolras smiled down at his boyfriend and then pulled him up so that their lips could meet in a slow, loving kiss, “I’ll always want you there,” he assured Grantaire before they both fell asleep nestled together on the floor. 


End file.
